Perfection
by teacandles
Summary: Azula was not that flawed, terrified, lonely girl in the mirror. No, Azula had no flaws. Azula, the world's next Fire Lord, was perfect. A character study.


Author's note: A (painfully) short character study for my second favorite character from ATLA. I've wanted to write something for this fandom for quite some time and to be honest, I'm not all that proud of this contribution. Maybe someday my muse will give me something more substantial. Ah, well. Enjoy.

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She frowned at the girl staring back at her from the reflective surface of the mirror. The girl was beautiful, but flawed, and flaws were not to be tolerated. Her eyes were the proper gold of her ancestors _though not quite the right shape for true beauty_, her dark hair was long _not long enough _and framed her face nicely _unless the strands escape their holding._ She frowned a bit, the bridge of her nose crinkling in distaste.

The girl standing before her was nothing. Worthless. Flawed. Not worthy of her grandfather's name. _Azulon_. So powerful, so strong. Just like her father. She leaned a bit closer, her fingertips brushing the cool glass ones of her reflection.

Her hips were slim _not enough curve for easy childbirth_ and her breasts were small _not large enough to be attractive but big enough to get in the way during training_. Her hands pressed harder against the glass, her tips of her fingers just starting to glow with a searing heat. The skin around her carefully manicured nails whitened under the pressure.

So many flaws. Anyone could see them. That's why she was alone right now, was it not? Her so-called friends had betrayed and abandoned her, and she could still feel the searing pain their traitorous knives had left in her back, had left in her heart. Oh, she never kidded herself that their friendship could possibly be real. No, not with those two. Mai was only a tool to help her father gain political ground. She had been shoved at Azula just days before the girls began their education at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, nothing but a pawn, albeit an intriguing one. She was quiet and sullen but so very skilled with her knives. A most marvelous tool. Azula had known that one day Mai might turn against her. As a child, she had done nothing to jeopardize her father's precarious political position, but she grew bolder with age. That damnable fixation of hers on her brother had simply been the tipping point. Azula hadn't miscalculated Mai's ultimate betrayal, just the timing. She lowered her eyes briefly before turning her gaze back to the girl in the mirror. Just the timing. A small yet costly mistake. It wouldn't happen again.

Ty Lee had been different. Oh, how she had longed to break away from the mold she had come from-just one pretty face in a matched set of seven beautiful girls, she and her sisters almost exactly the same in face and body. The friendship of a Fire Nation princess had been a godsend, but it wasn't enough. Azula was never enough. She ran away to the circus, her true calling she had said, and Azula had brought her right back. The fear in her eyes was an ever-present companion, but it had glued her to Azula. Ty Lee wouldn't ever dare cross her, not when she knew what the princess was capable of. Perhaps that's why her betrayal hurt so much worse: Azula never expected the flighty girl to let go of that fear. She never thought Ty Lee would abandon her for anything, especially not for Mai, not for Zuko, not for the cursed Avatar. Azula was far more powerful than any of those fools. She was worth so much more; why couldn't Ty Lee see that? The air around her hands rose and waved with immense heat.

Her loyal attendants Lo And Li had turned their backs on her too. They didn't think she was capable of handling the immense responsibility her father had left her. How dare they question her decisions? She was to be the next Fire Lord-the first woman to do so in nearly two centuries! How dare they? How could they? Her hands curled and tightened into fists, her palms glowing orange.

Flaws, flaws, flaws, all glaring at her from the girl behind the glass. This girl was not Azula. She was not, _could not _be the princess of the Fire Nation, the daughter of Ozai, the greatest Fire Lord the world had ever seen and now the Phoenix King. Azula was so much more beautiful, so much more cunning, so much more _powerful_ than this sneering woman in the mirror. She didn't need her friends. She had her father and that was enough.

Azula wasn't jealous of her brother for having a monopoly on their mother's love. She had all of their father affections, and wasn't that the only thing Zuko wanted? The one thing he couldn't let go of? Her right hand uncurled and she ran her nails across the throat of her reflection. Her eyes burned as they swept over the white flash of her own wicked smile. Yes, her father loved her and her alone. He pushed her past the limits, made her overcome her flaws. She didn't need her advisors. She didn't need her mother. She didn't need her pathetic excuse for a brother. She didn't need her unworthy, unloyal, untrustworthy friends. Perfection needed no one.

She turned on her heel and stalked over to her waiting bed, leaving the warped glass of the mirror behind. The crimson canopy and dark cushions had never looked so welcoming. Through her window, she could see the sun sinking low in the sky behind the curve of the horizon, Agni's light dying for the day. Her body was exhausted, but she knew she wouldn't sleep. Perfection didn't need to sleep, and she was nothing if not perfection. Azula was not that flawed, terrified, lonely girl in the mirror. No, Azula had no flaws. Azula, the world's next Fire Lord, was perfect.


End file.
